Monday, June 25, 2007

When I wasn’t sleeping during my sick days last week, I was watching my Sex and the City DVDs, all comfortable and nestled next to Manny the Manatee in my bed (and a big box of tissues within arm’s reach for all the snot). I was watching Season 4, the season Miranda gets pregnant with Steve’s baby and decides to keep it. What I really liked about that storyline was the sincerity and sensitivity the writers used to incorporate Miranda’s ambivalence in keeping the baby. It felt very genuine.

I used to think that if I faced the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy, I would probably exercise my choice to have an abortion. Back in the day, this decision had no bearings on where I was in my life, my career, my relationship with the baby daddy. In fact, this question came up very early in my relationship with Jesse (simply because I wanted to get it out of the way in the event that we had to ‘cross that bridge’). I had asked him what he would do if I suddenly got pregnant and he said he would support whatever decision I made. I’m glad he agreed that it’s my choice, my uterus.

However, three years into a serious relationship with a man I hope to spend the rest of my life with, things change. Apparently, I’ve changed (I’m still pro-choice). And the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy doesn’t scare me as much as it used to (but it still scares me). Lord knows that I’ve always been extra careful, but you just never know.

Last week, I found myself in front of the pregnancy tests on a shelf at CVS. I was with my friend Shama. I had just confided in her that I was experiencing some physiological abnormalities related to the female anatomy. Her response, “Could you be pregnant?” Hmmm. I answered, “If Fate wants me to be, I suppose I could be.” And somehow, she convinced me to go to CVS with her to get a pregnancy test.

But I just couldn’t. I wanted to know, but I also didn’t want to know. Perhaps my abnormalities could be side effects of the medication I’m taking. Or maybe it’s something else completely unrelated to baby-making. I talked myself out of it. I told Shama, “I think I’m just going to wait and see if the Crimson Tide comes in” (and no, I don’t mean the Univ. of Alabama football team). Shama said, “Well, if you need me to come back with you, let me know.” Thank goodness I had her support and understanding.

Strangely, I didn’t immediately turn to the person who has never denied me his support and understanding—Jesse. I didn’t tell him about the abnormalities (I’d rather spare him the details) but I asked him the same question I did three years ago, “What if I got pregnant?” He replied, “Well, we’d have the baby and you’ll be the perfect mother and I’ll be a good father and we’d have the perfect family together.” Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had a change of heart.

And since the Crimson Tide has yet to roll in, I’m glad we’re on the same page.